A/N: I do not own Harry Potter only the brilliant J.K. Rowling does. I make this because of my undying love for Harry Potter not for money :))
*In Lucius' study, Narcissa's eyes fall upon the tattered box of letters. The ones exchanged from the darkest time; the internment of Their souls; His Azkaban days. She looks for one she'd singed around the edges. She does not sit but instead sinks to the floor in a pool of lace and carefully pleated crinoline. The pages are blank. She murmurs a decoding charm. Black ink blossoms onto the yellowed paper. She reads the letter:*
Last night, My Love,
It was really me.
You have been gone from Us three hundred days, five hours and two minutes. It seems like forever.
I paid a guard /very/ well to weaken the wards around Your cell. Severus guarded Me from afar. We cast, and cast, and cast and feared I'd been tricked. We stood terrified I'd apparate in and be trapped myself while they'd moved You from Your cell and dragged You off for torture. But yet… we had to try. To see if We could.
But finally, Our quiet, sterile, drawing room was replaced with darkness, dankness, and a dim, huddled form upon a sorry excuse for a cot. I ran to You. You were not sleeping but instead just curled up, eyes blank and open but unseeing, Your long thin tunic open and torn.
"Darling," I murmured, folding over You, kneeling at the side of the cot, the thin gown I wore, something I'd picked carefully to be respectable lest I was seen- but still give the impression of Your favourite nightgown- became wet upon the knees, the silk sopping up the moisture of the dank floor as I covered Your face with kisses. I noticed each and every bruise and scratch and wound, I felt them upon My own skin and I kissed every one, casting a healing spell over You as I tried not to break down at the sight of You. The cell wards were still weak enough, and Severus' protections strong enough, to slip Your shackles from Your wrists and ankles. You barely stirred as I forcibly folded Your arms around Me.
"Cissa," you finally croaked, in a hoarse whisper. The voice of a stranger. It sent chills down My spine.
"Yes, Darling, I'm here," I whispered as my fingertips fluttered over damaged skin, your stubbled cheeks, taking every bit of You in as if I were blind and my fingers were the only way to see You. "I apparated in, I cannot apparate You out and I've only a moment, Severus is keeping Me safe, is He not so good to Us?"
"Amazing My mind can conjure You here. Cissa… Even despite all this…" You interrupted. I pulled back, cupped Your face in My hands, stared at You. But Your eyes saw through Me, around Me. Refused to see Me.
"No, Darling, I'm real. I'm /really/ here, just for a moment, you must believe me-"
"Cruel mind, wonderful mind," You chuckled. "If this is madness so be it," You purred in at last a voice I recognized and You gave over to what You thought was delusion.
Who was I to keep insisting otherwise and waste precious seconds with You? You let Me kiss you, climb up with You. You gave over and into. And because You did not think I was real, You broke down. You wept like I have never seen. You were always too strong to ever let anything show around Me other than the occasional tear in Your eye, quiver of Your noble lip, the rare fleeting flicker of fear before the steely glint got the better of any weakness. But You wept upon my bare skin openly and I became as wet as Your cell, bathed in Your tears. I wept with You, of course. I lavished You with kisses, murmuring how much I adore You, how much Our beloved friend Severus needed You to survive and promised, from both He, and I that everything would eventually be made right.
And as My words and kisses finally gained ground and You finally gave over to joy, submitted to rapture, there came the shadow over the small barred window. I could feel the wards and the magic surge about the room and I feared all would collapse in around Us. A dementor floated there at the window, summoned by emotion. Summoned to kill love. In fury my patronus flew from My wand, the white peacock unfurled its splendor before the shadowy monster. The beloved, notable bird of Our Home, my sacred symbol, lit the room, joined soon by the dim moonlight at the window once more. But it was too late. The creature had done its duty. The shadow of the wretch had taken You from Me again.
"You're not real," You croaked, pulling back, tucking Your knees up in that stranger's hoarse voice. I insisted otherwise, tried to tuck Myself against You once more but Your arms were folded around Your knees and Your eyes were again open but unseeing and I had already cut my time too close and asked too much of Severus.
You would be punished if You were found unbound and so with tears streaming down My face I told You I loved You and cast You into unconsciousness. I slipped the shackles back upon Your wrists and ankles, wincing as I did so. But I kept them loose and cast another healing and strengthening spell where the cold dark iron met Your pale skin, luminous in the dim moonlight, still so beautiful despite the damage. Beauty such as Yours cannot and will not be broken. It was my only comfort in that moment.
I couldn't bear the thought to leave You not knowing, still questioning Your senses. So because I am vain enough to have brought makeup in my little bag I turned Your wrist and wrote "It was really me, love, N" upon your arm in black liner. I pray that when you wake, you will notice your shackles loose and your sanity emboldened by my words. And maybe, perhaps, I can hope for a smile when You read this.
I do not know if I can do this again, or how much that guard's price may rise, but I'll try my damnedest. If I do I hope next time You'll know I'm really there.
Awaiting You, Ever Yours,
Narcissa
*Narcissa folded the letter again and remembered apparating back to the Manor that night and being unable to speak about what She'd seen. She simply collapsed upon the drawing room floor, into Severus' arms and just let Him into Her mind. She didn't have to say anything. He could see for Himself what hell looked like as love fought to scrape out a moment of life inside it. She could feel Severus tense as He saw Lucius through Her gaze. They didn't move for hours from that drawing room, unable to let go, unable to speak.
She then fought back a wave of anguish remembering how She tried so hard to return the favour for Severus at a later date, to offer up the same window, to be the same pillar assuring a return to safety, to cast distractions and protections, to let /Him/ go through so that Lucius might be bolstered. But She simply wasn't strong enough, Her magic simply not piercing enough, not skilled enough. It wasn't that She wasn't capable it's that She wasn't trained or disciplined enough. Not like Severus. None were. She'd tried so hard, thrown her entire being into casting, every ounce of her energy and will, so much so she'd fainted from the effort and Severus simply sat in that same drawing room, having caught Her so that She did not hit the floor, staring out into the dark night with His expression masked. He did not blame Her for not being able to do the same for Him. It didn't mean She didn't know how much it hurt not to have the opportunity. So she tried to be what comfort She could to Severus, who had been betrayed by so many, understood by so few, as They collectively waited out the storm. The guards, wards and policies at Azkaban shifted soon after and they dared not risk another attempt. All that remained were letters and dreams.
Rousing from Her reverie, Narcissa folded the letter once more, it's ink fading as she closed the pages. Rising, she moved out into the Manor to find Her family. She may not be as powerful as some in casting spells, but if nothing else, at least She was never outmatched in adoration.*
Letter to Azkaban...
Hey Guys,
yay! I manage to overcome my Gred & Forge feels a little bit now then out of sudden, Lucissa feels come swap on my face haha
This is my first fics for Lucissa (I love their love for each other)..
Tell me what you think about and please review; it makes me smile you know :) enjoyy
-Mia